


Common Tongue

by cloverfield



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Communal Bathing, Flirting While Naked, I'll Give You Innuendo, Kissing In The Tub, M/M, Poor Bathtub Etiquette, References to War, Revelations Route, Rub A Dub Dub, The Hoshidan Siblings are Dating the Nohrian Siblings, kiss meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22110388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfield/pseuds/cloverfield
Summary: “Tell me – have you always possessed natural talent as a rider, or was it born of hard-work?” The grin on Ryouma’s face is several degrees north of suggestive. “I imagine you’ve spent some time working in the, mm,saddle. Years, maybe, judging by the thickness of those thighs.”“One could say that,” says Xander coolly, attempting sternness, and failing miserably judging by the twitch of his lips as he fights an answering grin. “A counter for you, sword-master – are not your hands blistered, with all that time spent stroking your haft? Or does a lifetime playing with your blade thicken your palms to callused stiffness?”
Relationships: Marx | Xander/Ryoma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Common Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the 'kiss meme' on tumblr. The prompt was an 'in the water' kiss.
> 
> Rub a dub-dub, kissin' in the tub!

Xander is a man of many talents, but subtlety is not one of them. So he doesn’t bother to hide his amusement as Ryouma ducks beneath the cloudy water with a huff of breath, emerging a few seconds later with a hearty splash and a groan, the mane of his hair wet and dripping as he slicks it down with both hands to tumble down his back.

“I _had_ heard it was poor manners to submerge oneself completely in a Hoshidan-style bath, but I see I was mistaken.”

Ryouma laughs, taking his seat on the sunken benches carved into silky stone as Xander wades gingerly deeper, his toes curling against the hot pebbles of the bath’s flooring. It was strange at first, walking on such an unsteady surface, but now Xander finds the rolling pebbles soothing against feet sore from a day in riding boots, easing aches he did not know he possessed.

“Mm. Luckily, you are my only witness – if rumours start of my terrible bathing habits, I’ll know exactly where they begun.”

The look on Ryouma’s face is lazy, self-satisfied; without the trappings of his armour and his status – not to mention the wet fall of his hair spilling over one broad shoulder and onto his chest, eye-catching in its rich, dark colour as much as its length – he looks a different man entirely than the one who Xander last saw attempting to take three out of his four siblings at once on the sparring ring, just as vicious with the spear in one hand as he was with sword in the other.

Coincidence, perhaps, that they would find themselves in the baths together. His day was spent with Leo arguing tactics with Corrin before their erstwhile leader sought a more martial kind of exercise and trooped off to wrassle with the ever-argumentative Prince Takumi. Xander had attempted to remain focused on the battle plans Leo had deemed worth his attention, but he had not managed for very long, finding himself distracted in increasing fleeting glances over towards the barracks. Xander would be the first to confess to watching a little longer than mere passing interest would justify, at least once Ryouma himself had joined and turned a duel with Princess Hinoka referring into a four-way tussle between archer, pegasus rider sans pegasus, a duel-wielding samurai/spearman hybrid, and a literal dragon.

Part of Xander had itched to join the… well, _fun –_ it had been a very long time indeed since practising his swordsmanship had been anything like as playful as three Hoshidans and one Vallite-born dragonkin rolling around in the grass – while the part of him that had been schooled in etiquette and punished accordingly for any perceived lapse of protocol since the age of three had been objectively horrified.

Still. Ryouma looks more than pleased with his collection of bruises now, arching out of the water and pressing his fingers gingerly against a series of mottled splotches along his ribs, hissing accordingly at the pressure on tender flesh. They were already turning blue; a few more days will see Hoshido’s High Prince with a lovely bouquet of violet blooming all along his side, assuming the healers do not get to him first.

But Xander’s passing glances have been noticed, for Ryouma leans back against the lip of the bath with his arms slack, and rolls his neck to tease it loose as he tenses and relaxes his shoulders. “Do not be overly concerned – Corrin’s tail, while certainly a danger, did nothing more than merely glance across my armour. Lacquered slats may not be nearly so heavy as the plate and mail you Nohrians favour, but it does enough to take the brunt of the blows.” The hard muscle of his abdomen flexes and ripples with each stretch, and Xander loses a few seconds staring, before sitting down abruptly.

“The main trade-off for less protection is your increased freedom of movement,” agrees Xander somewhat hurriedly, sinking deeper in his seat along the sides of the bath. He groans breathily as the steaming water laps up to the small of his aching back, sliding a little lower in his seat to coax it higher. “I daresay I’ve seen dervishes move with less flexibility on the battlefield.”

Ryouma laughs again, full-throated and loud – it rings in the empty chamber, bouncing off water and wet tile both. “A fair compliment, Lord Xander. Still, I must admit myself impressed of your own movement on horseback. I’ve never seen a man coax his charger to stuntwork with such skill as yourself.” Dark eyes do not bother to hide their approval as they glance across Xander’s face and lower still – if his face were not already flushed from the heat of the bath, it would be redder still; the look in Ryouma’s eyes is anything but shy, and despite his actual nudity, Xander abruptly feels stripped below the fall of that gaze as it trails hot over damp, slick skin.

“Tell me – have you always possessed natural talent as a rider, or was it born of hard-work?” The grin on Ryouma’s face is several degrees north of suggestive. “I imagine you’ve spent some time working in the, mm, _saddle_. Years, maybe, judging by the thickness of those thighs.”

“One could say that,” says Xander coolly, attempting sternness, and failing miserably judging by the twitch of his lips as he fights an answering grin. “A horseman is only as good as the grip of his legs.” Ryouma’s smile widens, white teeth on display and the dark spill of his hair tumbling into the water as he leans forward eagerly in his seat.

Xander is not to be outdone, however, no matter how attractive the prospect of yielding might be. “A counter for you, sword-master – are not your hands blistered, with all that time spent stroking your haft? Or does a lifetime playing with your blade thicken your palms to callused stiffness?”

“Calluses maybe, but no stiffness here,” says Ryouma playfully, holding up both hands to wiggle his fingers. “Or not in my hands, at least. I’m a master of my craft, my lord, I promise you – and to be a master one does need a certain… deftness of touch.”

A deftness of touch Xander knows very well by now, with at least half-a-dozen extremely enjoyable tumbles into shared bedding to show for it; but it’s still something he would like to know even better, and he’s definitely going to if the gleam in Ryouma’s eye is as much of a promise as it seems. Moments of privacy between the two of them with no siblings, retainers, or members of Corrin’s extended and somewhat rag-tag forces are difficult to come by, and one such as this is not to be wasted.

“Come _here_ ,” says Xander – growls Xander really, and Ryouma immediately obliges, slipping off his ledge and into the water with barely a ripple. He’s submerged completely, a faint shadow moving under the water, and Xander starts pleasantly at the sudden clasp of strong hands about his ankles, smoothing up his calves and kneading at his thighs as Ryouma emerges between his legs, legs that spread wider to accommodate as he surges upwards with a crest of steaming water.

“With an invitation like that, how could I refuse?” Dark strands cling to Ryouma’s face, dripping water down chiselled features; the sharpness of his cheekbones and the grey eyes that smoulder above them never cease to amaze, their heavy-lidded stare more than enough to leave Xander breathless.

“You’re going to make me pay for that horseman comment, aren’t you?” he murmurs, leaning in close enough the tip of his nose brushes Xander’s cheek, moving to his ear as Ryouma speaks, and the warm curl of his voice is as much a tease as the hot breath on his skin.

Ryouma’s strong hands are on his thighs below the water, hard and callused and _squeezing_ , and Xander is so weak for the touch, the hot swoop of his gut tensing in time with the pressure of Ryouma’s hands as he shudders.

“I certainly am,” groans Xander, and turns his head to capture Ryouma’s mouth in a glancing kiss, just enough to take the fullness of his bottom lip between Xander’s own and suckle, earning a shudder of his own. “Master or not, I can outride you any day, and you know it.”

“ _That_ , I certainly do,” Ryouma huffs, and hums happily when Xander deepens the kiss of his own accord. Teasing is one thing, but the heady pleasure of having Ryouma sigh into his mouth, the tangle of his hair a damp curtain as it tumbles forward and he leans in to the circle of Xander’s arms, is worth giving up the game for, no matter the stakes.

They only have a little time here, in the warm, quiet privacy of the baths – Xander intends to make the best possible use of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Look. I just have this idea that once these two start flirting, all that snark just turns into terrible, terrible puns. They're both "big brothers" - _of course_ they make terrible puns.


End file.
